


Between the Ribs

by jive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Barebacking, Body Horror, Breathplay, Creampie, Double Penetration, Frottage, Implied Voyeurism, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Monster Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Mutual Masturbation, Shotgunning, Tentacles, Xenophilia, fight kink, inappropriate use of emoji, mutual consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive
Summary: “You should've run while you had the chance, Jack,” Gabriel rumbles from behind his mask. The buzzing, clicking, and swarming sounds of his nanites have all but stopped, and Jack's fist clenches briefly to fight the full-body shudder of unease running through it. Slowly but surely, Gabriel gets up onto his two feet, and Jack can't help but feel a cold sweat running down his uncovered temple.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a shameless monster!Gabriel fic, inspired by [this deliciously fantastic piece of artwork by kirinlust on Tumblr](http://kirinlust.tumblr.com/post/153174308945/lust-stag-pain).
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta, [Laur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Theywerefireworks/pseuds/EdgeLaur), for her amazing work and cheerleading for when I got stuck. ❤️

It starts with a hair-raising electronic buzz, a thunderous crackling pop, and a woman clad in a techno-punk storm of purple and silver shouting from somewhere outside, “Turn off the lights!” Every electronic device in sight — and no doubt beyond, with the way the deafening quiet settles over the warehouse district as far as Soldier: 76's super-human and visor assisted ears can detect — gets knocked offline by the electromagnetic pulse blast. the Soldier’s visor shuts off with a crackle, the assistive display blinking with information about his surroundings one minute, and going completely dark the next. He curses at the loss, dodge-rolling behind a wall of industrial-sized barrel just as a well-aimed shotgun blast decimates the concrete wall right behind where he was standing.

“Sombra!” he hears Reaper’s angry roar echo off the walls of the warehouse, and alarms go off in the Soldier’s head at the way his voice morphs from the normal low and guttural rasp to something just short of monstrous and terrifying. He inches to the very edge of his hiding place to take a peek despite his better judgment, curious as to why a follow-up shot did not blast at his cover from Reaper’s other shotgun. Though not a bit of light shines down from the fluorescent bulbs overhead and the Soldier’s own visor isn’t able to provide him with feedback, plenty of natural daylight floods the warehouse and gives him a clear view of his hunter. Blue eyes widen in shock at the sight of Reaper crumpled on the ground not ten meters away.

A pile of black undulates and shifts on the concrete floor, black smoke and dark vapor steaming off the heap with each tiny movement. The movements are unnatural, monstrous and horrifying in the way limbs seem to flail and writhe every which way and at all sorts of angles as the smoking mess seems to both break itself down and build itself up simultaneously. Reaper’s form shifts and changes constantly in a way that can't be anything outside of agonizing, what with how broken the shuddering groans and wet gasps sound to the Soldier's ears.

He'd heard explanations from Ange- _Mercy_ that Reaper’s body had become something akin to something out of an old science-fiction film from way back when. An attempt at bringing someone back to life had gone horribly wrong, and the majority of Reaper’s composition had become nanomachines (nanites for short), making him into something between human and not-human. There was further explanation about his composition and the science of what makes the Reaper tick, why his existence constantly teeters between living and dead, but the Soldier paid very little attention to it. All that mattered to him was that deep inside, the Reaper was and still is the same man he'd known for almost all of his life.

And here he was, crumpled to the ground, body struggling to pull itself together as the nanites knocked offline by the EMP are no doubt being made up for — replaced, repaired, restarted; the Soldier doesn't quite know which, truth be told — by its fellow machines and the rapid healing bestowed upon the Reaper by the remnants of the Soldier Enhancement Program written into his genetic code.

The Soldier should take this opportunity to run, flee from the warehouse and to the safety of anywhere but here, but his emotions get the better of him. He'd seen this happen to Reaper before, when one of his Helix made a direct hit square into his chest and left a gaping hole in the dead center of the wraith’s solid form. Reaper had dropped to the ground with a grunt, and his form collapsed and writhed, steaming in the same way it was doing now, struggling and writhing as Reaper’s nanites scrambled to repair the damage and restore him to a proper form. Inwardly berating himself, the Soldier groans quietly, carefully leaving his place of cover and slowly making his way over to the steaming pile of his former ally, his former lover.

“Gabriel?” he calls out questioningly, hands gripped tightly around his pulse rifle. His finger hovers over the trigger, ready to pull at the even the slightest indication of immediate danger. The lack of the digital ammo counter and tell-tale electronic whirr makes it obvious that even his trusty gun was knocked out by the blast, but the Soldier does his best to ignore it. Even if he isn't able to shoot, the solid weight of the gun is still somewhat reassuring; all else fails, the Soldier could use it as an improvised weapon and buy himself just a few seconds of time for a retreat as the Reaper recovers from the shock.

The steaming pile on the ground does not respond, though the unnatural writhing and flailing has died down to a more settled squirming and shifting. The Soldier can only watch in a morbid fascination as the mass of nanites and the familiar, black organic matter slowly coalesce into something vaguely more human than it was just moments before.

“Gabriel?” he asks again once he spots the distinct shapes of arms and hands pressed against the concrete and lifting the humanoid shape off the floor. The white owl mask looks up and seems to stare right through him.

“You should've run while you had the chance, Jack,” Gabriel rumbles from behind his mask. The buzzing, clicking, and swarming sounds of his nanites have all but stopped, and Jack's fist clenches briefly to fight the full-body shudder of unease running through it. Slowly but surely, Gabriel gets up onto his two feet, and Jack can't help but feel a cold sweat running down his uncovered temple.

Gabriel looks nothing like how he did before. He's not even standing at full height, hunched over like a predator ready to strike at any moment, and yet he still has the height advantage by at least a few inches so far as Jack can tell. Gabriel's usual hooded jacket and body armor are nowhere to be seen — though Jack notes he still has his gloves, pants, and mask on, at the very least — and Jack can only gape at the way Gabriel's ribs stick out of his jet-black flesh, jagged and sharp in a way that reminds him of a horrific roadside accident.

There's a moment of silence as Jack merely watches Gabriel stare right back at him somehow managing to even _breathe_ menacingly. His deformed body visibly rises and falls with each breath, plumes of smoke escaping from the sides of his mask and numerous, countless open holes and pores dotting his collar and neck. He's monstrous, definitely not the Gabriel that Jack is used to seeing, but there's no time for that. Gabriel Reyes is still Gabriel Reyes, a man known to get the job done and do it _well_.

Which is why, when Gabriel begins to move, before he even finishes taking a step, Jack runs.

And Gabriel follows.

Jack urges his legs into a sprint, bobbing and weaving as best he can through the stacks of metal and wood and god-knows-what in the warehouse in an effort to lose the monster on his tail. Each step he takes is echoed by Gabriel behind him and he can feel the panic rise in his chest when he can hear- can _feel_ Gabriel closing the distance between them. He makes the mistake of turning right at an intersection when he should've gone left, and manages to corner himself into a dead end.

“Nowhere left to run and hide, Jack,” Gabriel chuckles, slowly stepping forward.

Jack retreats deeper into the dead end with every step Gabriel takes towards him until his back is literally against the wall. He curses in his mind, hating the fact that Gabriel is right. There's no way out. The windows lining the very top of all the warehouse walls are too high to reach; the wall behind him has not a single crevasse or ledge to aid him in climbing; and Gabriel is blocking his way to freedom.

Wait.

His brain focuses on the fact that Gabriel is the only thing stopping his escape.

A thought comes to mind and he hefts his rifle thoughtfully. It would be a shame to lose such an important asset, but given how it's of no use to him in his current predicament, Jack has no other choice. He grits his teeth, takes a breath, and waits.

Gabriel takes another step closer.

There's little more than 5 meters between them now, and Jack holds tight to his rifle.

Then another.

4 meters.

Another step and-

 **_WHAM_ **!

Jack surges forward, ramming the side of his rifle directly into Gabriel head, focusing all of his attack into that bone-white mask. He takes the split second Gabriel reels in shock to try and dart past him, putting all of his energy into his legs to make a break for it.

But to no avail.

The rifle smashes against the wall as it gets knocked away, clattering loudly as it hits the floor far out of sight and reach. As if Gabriel had been expecting such an attack — Jack curses inwardly; he should've _known_ that Gabriel would've seen it coming — he immediately turns in place, reaching out and taking firm hold of Jack's forearm as he rushes past. He yanks backwards, forcefully pulling Jack back towards him. On reflex, Jack uses the momentum to his advantage, spinning his body to break Gabriel's hold, and aiming a well-placed kick against the already cracked mask — no doubt the result of his efforts with the rifle — covering Gabriel’s face.

The sole of his boot collides with the owlish mask with a sick, yet deeply satisfying crack, and Gabriel howls with rage as the pieces clink and clatter off of his face. Red eyes, many, _many_ red eyes — far more than the simple _two_ Jack had been expecting — glow with murderous intent, narrowing menacingly as they all focus on Jack and  make contact with Jack’s own. Just like that, the hairs on Jack’s neck stand on end, and before he even has a second to react, a thick, dark tendril coils itself around Jack's calf. Alarmed, Jack attempts to escape its tight hold, thrashing and kicking to shake himself free, only to no avail as Gabriel's own hand takes firm hold of him as well.

The metal claws dig into Jack's leg, piercing through the thick fabric of his fatigues and into his flesh. They're sharp — sharper than Jack even imagined — unnaturally so in the way they sink in like knives, deep enough to cause Jack to cry out and bleed with almost no effort. Scarlet red stains his pants, yet still, Jack continues to thrash and struggle. He needs to get away. He needs to get away _now._

He makes the mistake of dropping his weight to the floor to try and get away. He forgets that Gabriel isn't his normal fare of attackers, and his usual means of escaping a leg grab have little effect on someone who knows his usual tactics like the back of his hand. Jack's body hits the concrete like a sack of potatoes, and Gabriel willingly lets himself get dragged down with him. Before Jack can even push himself back up, Gabriel is there, crawled atop him on all fours.

“Gotcha,” Gabriel chuckles. Plumes of that dark vapor smokes from his mouth with every laugh, and Jack feels somewhat grateful that his mask and visor are still in place to filter it out. Jack had barely paid attention to it before, too distracted by the sight of Gabriel's many eyes and the overwhelming need to get away — not that his brain isn't _still_ scrambling to try and find an escape — but it's only now that he's up close and face-to-face with Gabriel that he notices just how razor-sharp his teeth- his many, many, _many_ teeth look. They could easily tear his flesh apart with minimal effort, and Jack swallows a lump in his throat at the thought.

Jack's heart hammers in his chest. Though the monstrous form above him bears almost no resemblance to the man he knew and loved so many years ago, the thing pinning him to the ground is still Gabriel, a fact his body is more than happy and willing to accept. His breath begins to quicken as the realization makes its way to his groin, and heat pools in his gut at the familiarity of his position. It's shameful and utterly ridiculous, to be thinking of such things when he's literally at the mercy of someone that could easily kill him without a thought, but Jack can't help himself.

He tries to take a deep breath and shake the inappropriate thoughts from his mind by attempting to focus on coming up with another method of escape when the sudden movement above him distracts him entirely. Gabriel shifts his weight, cracking his neck as he rears back up onto his knees. His eyes — all six, seven, _nine_ ? of them —  narrow as they focus on Jack once more, glaring him down, as if daring him to run away- as if Gabriel _expects_ him to run away. And just as the thought of fulfilling Gabriel’s expectation crosses Jack's mind and he makes the slightest motion of getting up, Jack finds his head forcibly slammed back onto the ground.

One large claw catches him by his throat, while the other seizes his mask and visor. Panic runs through Jack's mind as he hears the metal and plastic of his mask creak and groan in Gabriel's grip, and he quickly reaches up to undo the latches just in time for the faceplate to get ripped away and tossed aside. He's barely able to finish a sigh of relief when the grip around his throat begins to tighten. And just like that, the inappropriate thoughts return.

Memories from what feels so long ago, of Gabriel holding him down and controlling his breathing just like this — hand wrapped around his neck as he coos words of praise and reassurance — flood Jack's mind, and he squirms as the aching at his groin returns. He tries to curl in on himself to hide his shame, doing nothing to even fight the oppressive grip on his neck, but to no avail. Gabriel's presence between his legs makes it almost impossible to hide the bulge beginning to form at the front of his pants, and he can only pray that those red eyes keep themselves trained on his face and nothing else.

But the movements of the rest of his body don't escape Gabriel's notice, and a few of  those piercing red eyes widen briefly at the sight of Jack's cock tenting the front of his fatigues. A dark, low chuckle escapes Gabriel's mouth and he reaches down between their bodies. The touch of Gabriel's large, clawed hand at his clothed cock is more arousing than Jack would like to admit, and he bites back a groan when he feels the searing heat of Gabriel's palm stroke at him through the thick fabric of his gloves and Jack's pants.

“Is the boy scout seriously popping a woody in the middle of a fight?” Gabriel sneers, venom dripping off of almost every word, “Oh, _Jackie_ , you haven't changed a bit. You always did love getting roughed up, didn't you?” The claw around Jack's neck tightens as Gabriel presses the full weight of himself — deceptively much heavier than when he and Jack had last met at allies; the nanites inside him making up so much of his body now and adding to his mass — onto him in a manner far too straightforward to even be considered suggestive. The pressure and almost electric sensation force a groan to escape out of straining lungs. Their groins make contact, and Jack somehow manages to pull in a small gasp of surprise when he feels a hardness at the front of Gabriel's pants echoing his own arousal.

“Sh-shit,” Jack groans, fighting the overwhelming urge to push up against that familiar hardness.

It’s when Gabriel begins grinding down on him, rubbing the thick length of his cock against Jack’s through the several layers of cloth, and begins moaning, low and guttural, that Jack begins to thrash even harder beneath him. Jack struggles in his grip, and Gabriel chuckles lowly at his efforts.  His heart races, face flushing from not only the strained efforts to break free but also from the obvious ministrations sending jolts of arousal through his body. Jack feels his chest tighten as his lungs struggle to pull in air despite the natural reaction of his breath quickening. As the tightening around his throat grows even stronger and more ominous, so does the pressure bearing down on him at his crotch. His cock throbs and desire flares within his gut at every rock of Gabriel’s hips against his own, and Jack inwardly berates himself for it.

“Just like old times, huh, baby?” Gabriel murmurs, tone both sarcastic and fond as he tugs down the high collar of Jack's shirt to expose thin and delicate skin. He leans his head down and buries his face into Jack's neck. A shiver runs down Jack's spine at the thought of Gabriel's wide maw and its countless amount of fangs and teeth — sharp enough to no doubt rend and tear through flesh and bone with little effort — so close to such a vulnerable part of his body. He can't help the groan that escapes him when Gabriel's slick, wet-hot tongue trails its way up the side of his neck, just above where Gabriel's thumb presses against his pulse. Jack bites down on his lip, flinching and trembling in both anticipation and excitement at the familiar and intimate sensation. “Still taste just as sweet as you used to,” Gabriel laughs, hot breath puffing against the pinkened skin of his ear.

There’s not much time for Jack to dwell on the pleasure beginning to fog his mind, not when his vision is starting to go dark around the edges. His head feels like it’s about to explode, and every attempt to gasp for air is either met with futility or more of that sinister smoke emanating off of Gabriel creeping into his body and intensifying the burning in his lungs. Jack grits his teeth and continues to struggle, hands scrabbling in an attempt to break the oppressive hold before the inevitable happens.

“Fuck off, Gabriel!” he rasps, wincing inwardly at how wrecked his voice and utterly unconvincing his anger sound. He punches at Gabriel’s elbows, slams a palm into the blackened jaw, and even goes so far as to attempt a headbutt. But nothing works; Gabriel has the advantage — has always had the advantage when it came to fighting and scrapping like this, and it seems the rift between their abilities to fight hand-to-hand has only grown greater over the years — and Jack has little options left.

A long time ago, Jack Morrison would’ve hesitated to use such a dirty tactic to gain an advantage over his opponent, but Soldier: 76 is a different man with a different opinion about fighting dirty. In a last-ditch effort to break Gabriel's hold on his neck, Jack grinds his hips upwards, feigning a pleasured groan — or so he tries to tell himself, at least — at the sensation of Gabriel’s clothed cock against his own. As he hoped, the action is enough to throw Gabriel off-balance, and the oppressive grip on his airway eases.

Jack nearly cries as blessed, sweet oxygen floods his lungs, and he takes large gulping breaths to ease the burning in his chest. But, much to his dismay, the relief is only temporary; having not followed up on his somewhat underhanded and dirty trick with any sort of action, Gabriel's presence above him remains just as menacing as ever, if not more so. A full-body shudder runs through Jack at the look of sheer want and utter lust on Gabriel's face — which he can still surprisingly recognize despite the change to Gabriel's face and form — as those red, glowing eyes gaze down on him.

“Oh, _Sunshine_ ,” Gabriel purrs, smoke pluming from his body like an aura, “if you wanted me so badly, you should've just said something.” A cheshire grin forms on Gabriel's face, eyes glinting in amusement at the way Jack's face flushes with embarrassment, heat all but exploding in his cheeks at the way Gabriel's voice and his razor-sharp smile make his cock twitch.

“I-!” Jack's protest dies in his throat as Gabriel holds him still, claws gently digging into him just above the jut of Jack's  hip bones, and presses his lips against Jack’s own. He growls into the kiss, irritated at the way Gabriel still doesn't seem to understand — even after all these years — how much he hates it when he's interrupted like this. Gabriel's tongue licks against his lips, and despite himself, Jack grants it entry. The wet muscle — much thicker and longer than Jack remembers, much to his unease — laps at and tangles with his own, and Jack starts to lose himself in how nice it feels.

As the kiss grows more and more heated so too does the arousal burning in Jack's gut. Before long, he finds himself gripping at Gabriel's arms for purchase, groaning against Gabriel's mouth as he rocks his hips upward in search of that hard heat pressed so intimately against him just moments before. Indulging him, Gabriel meets Jack's hips with his own, lazily pressing down to counter each buck upwards until they are all but grinding into each other’s groins, the delicious friction against their clothed erections only urging them on.

He can hardly believe how shamelessly he's rutting up against Gabriel like this, and barely able to contain his arousal, Jack begins to moan and pant against Gabriel's lips, each movement of their hips bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Gabriel, please,” he pants, somehow managing to pull his lips away long enough to beg for something more, “I… I want you.” He shudders in Gabriel's strong hold when his mouth is all but devoured once more, Gabriel's hot tongue lapping at the sides of his mouth and delving deeper and deeper until he's nearly licking into Jack's throat. The sensation is both startling and exciting all at once, and Jack groans at the thought of something else in place of that hot tongue instead and where else it would be put to better use.

His train of thought stops in its tracks as the feeling of something being pushed down his airway sounds the alarms in his mind. It's far too intangible to be Gabriel's tongue, but far too dense to be simple air being forced into him. His chest convulses, and he keens against Gabriel's mouth, breaking the kiss almost violently with a gasp as his lungs struggle to expel the foreign presence. He coughs, eyes widening as each spasm of his chest sends out a puff of black smoke out of his mouth, dissipating into the air as it drifts away.

His eyes narrow at Gabriel above him, who does little more than grin mischievously in return. “You said you wanted me, didn't you?” he laughs, sounding far too pleased with himself to Jack’s liking. Jack glares up at him, unamused, and for a moment, grinding of their hips halt.

“I'm starting to question if I do anymore,” Jack grumbles, clearly displeased.

He's not sure how it's even remotely possible, but somehow Gabriel manages to look apologetic despite the monstrous face he bears, and just like how it was back in the old days, Jack finds himself unable to stay irritated for very long. He sighs, giving in after a few moments, and pulls Gabriel's face back down to him. The kissing and grinding resumes, and Jack feels his arousal beginning to flare up again.

The clinking of belts being unbuckled and rustling of fabric as flys are undone mesh with the wet gasps and groans of their heated kiss, and Jack can't help but shiver at the feeling of Gabriel taking him out of his open fly and pressing his throbbing cock against his own.

“Oh, god,” he moans, bucking into the wonderful feeling of Gabriel's heated flesh rubbing solidly against his own. A firm grip wraps around them both, holding their erections together as they continue to grind their hips together. The slick precum leaking from both of their slits eases the way, and lewd, wet noises join the cacophony of their grunts and groans.

Gabriel answers Jack with a loud, heated moan of his own, one hand snaking between them as the other gives him purchase from dropping his weight fully atop of Jack beneath him. He continues to fuck into the firm grasp gripping the both of them together and-

A sudden realization comes to Jack's mind and gives him pause. If Gabriel is undoing his jacket with one hand, and holding himself up with the other…

He breaks the kiss briefly to look down between their bodies. Sure enough, the thing holding their leaking erections together and giving the both of them something tight to fuck at the same time is not a hand, but rather, one of Gabriel's tentacles. The sight should be strange and bizarre enough to spoil his arousal, but Jack can't seem to find it in himself to care all that much. He could chalk it up to having spent so many years alone and without anyone to share any sort of heated intimacy like this, but if anything, Gabriel's rather creative use of his monstrous body arouses him even more than it probably should.

Jack's line of sight is blocked when Gabriel leans down to press his face into the side of his neck, licking and sucking at the skin there once more and no doubt leaving dark and highly visible bruises in his pale flesh. He groans at the feeling, shivering in delight at the barest scrape of sharp teeth against his throat.

The heated thrusting of their hips continue, and Jack can almost feel himself teetering over the edge of release, cock leaking onto the tendril wrapped around himself and Gabriel, and dripping clear slick onto his own belly. A gloved hand snakes its way beneath Jack's shirt, and Jack gasps at the way the cold metal of those sharp claws contrasts against the hot, sweaty skin of his own chest. The leather rubs up and down his torso with purpose, and when those metal claws rake into him hard enough to draw blood, Jack tosses his head back and cries out as he loses himself in orgasm.

“Ga-Gabriel!” he cries, cock pulsing in the tight grasp of Gabriel's tentacle and spilling hot, slick cum all over its black, slightly matte surface. His body twitches and spasms with each spurt of cum that leaves his slit, and he presses his face into Gabriel’s meaty shoulder to muffle his gasping moans all the while.

“That a boy, Jackie,” Gabriel coos, continuing to rock his hips throughout the entirety of Jack's orgasm.

Jack tenses against him, hissing sharply and cringing at the feeling of over sensitivity against his cock. He sighs in relief when both Gabriel and the tendril pull off of him, slipping away as he lays boneless on the ground. Unconsciously, he licks his lips at the sight of Gabriel's cock, still standing at attention and slightly slick with a mixture of Jack’s climax and his own precum. Like his tongue, it's thicker and longer than Jack remembers, and though he should be amused that Gabriel would manipulate his body in such a way, he would rather wonder what it would feel like to take that thick length into his mouth and give Gabriel free reign to fuck his throat to completion.

His mind and attention are quickly drawn back to the here and now as Gabriel maneuvers his pliant body this way and that. Jack offers no protest when Gabriel roughly  yanks his boots off and tosses them aside before tugging his pants down and his underwear along with them. Gabriel doesn't even bother to completely remove the garments, choosing to let them dangle from one leg as he continues. Jack also makes no effort resist when Gabriel grabs hold of him and spreads his legs almost obscenely, one leg tossed over a shoulder while the other falls to the side.

He's held open by Gabriel's gloved hands, and can't help the shiver that runs up his spine at the way the metal tips chill and scratch at his skin. Gabriel leans down to lick at the small remnants of cum dotting his stomach, and Jack squirms beneath that large tongue lewdly drawing patterns on his skin. It's hot and wet, and utterly ticklish. Jack has half a mind to push Gabriel's head away from his stomach when a sensation between his parted legs has him nearly jackknifing off the ground.

“Gabriel!” he shouts, trying to sit up to no avail. The way Gabriel has him spread open gives him almost no leverage whatsoever, and the feeling of something creeping into the cleft of his ass — no doubt that infernal tentacle again, given the hold Gabriel has on both his legs —  hot, wet, and thick as it prods questioningly at his entrance has Jack all but squirming in his arms.

“Yes, cariño?” he asks, voice as smug as ever. His teeth nip gently at Jack's stomach, sharp edges grazing against wet skin, and Jack gasps at the dual sensation of something hot and slick running against the sensitive skin of his stomach and circling around the sensitive furl of his hole. Grumbling, he lays back onto the ground, unable to do anything but focus on the feeling of that insistent tendril slicking his entrance with his own cum.

“N-Nothing,” he replies weakly, covering his eyes with a forearm to try and hide his embarrassment. It had been so long since anyone had touched him there, himself included, that he's almost hyper-aware of the sensation. He bites back the moan that tries to escape from his lips when the tendril begins to push inward, prodding at his entrance and occasionally dipping in far enough into open Jack up to press more of the collected cum inside, but not enough to actually penetrate.

The teasing pressure continues until it becomes clear that there isn't nearly enough slick from Jack's cum to facilitate comfortable penetration, and Jack shouts in surprise when he feels the tendril become inexplicably slicker all of a sudden. A strange substance seems to ooze from the tendril itself, smearing onto Jack's entrance and adding to the slick of his own cum already lubricating his entrance.

“Relax, Jackie, it's just me,” Gabriel says, doing his best to sound more reassuring than amused. Jack can only assume he means it literally, that the substance being pushed into him is some form of the nanites from Gabriel's own body, something akin to the tentacle currently pressing so insistently against him and the black smoke Gabriel seems to breathe out on occasions.

The attempt to soothe does very little to put Jack's racing mind at ease, though Jack barely has the ability to call him out on it in his current state. The tendril finally slips inside after several minutes of teasing and prodding, spreading Jack’s tight hole wide enough to penetrate and sending his back arching off the floor. He cries out at the feeling of being spread open so intimately by a tentacle, of all things, and has half a mind to punch Gabriel in his smug, monstrous face when he purrs, “God, you're so damn tight. Has it really been that long for you, old man?”

“Sh-shut up!” Jack grumbles in reply, unable to think of a better comeback thanks to the tendril in his ass. The sensation is close enough to being fucked, the way it rubs against his inner walls as it thrusts in and out, and Jack's insides clench and tighten around it, as if unable to decide whether they want the tendril to delve deeper or to expel it all together.

Nevertheless, the decision is all but made for him when the appendage caresses that sensitive, spongy bundle of nerves inside of him. Gabriel nudges and prods at it insistently, punching moans of pleasure out of Jack's chest each time it makes contact. Grinning like the cat that got the canary, Gabriel toys with Jack's prostate, purposely brushing against it, but not enough to stimulate nor satisfy as he continues to push more and more slick into the recesses of Jack's body. He continues to torture and tease Jack with the tentacle for several moments, purposely avoiding Jack's prostate as he thrusts it in and out of the slowly stretched hole until finally Jack loses his patience.

Reaching up and grabbing hold onto one of Gabriel’s jutting ribs, Jack tugs at him harshly. “Quit screwin’ around and fuck me already,” Jack growls, clearly irritated.  The expression on his face makes it abundantly clear that he's about one second away from yanking Gabriel's appendage out from inside him and just walking away (not unlike how he'd done in the past on occasion when Gabriel decided to tease him for far too long).

Chuckling, Gabriel relents and ceases his teasing. Jack feels the the offending appendage being pulled from his body with a lewd, wet noise, and he's unable to hold back the groan of disappointment from escaping his kiss-swollen lips at the sudden loss. Gabriel quickly makes up for it, kneeling up into position between Jack's open legs, and pressing the fat, fleshy head of his cock directly against Jack's stretched entrance.

Once again, he teases, rocking his hips forward just enough for the tip of his length to penetrate Jack’s hole, and he goes no further, pulling away just as the widest ridge of his cock clears the stretched rim. He does this several times, delighting in the way Jack squirms and writhes beneath him, eager and silently begging for more each and every time. He’s only stopped when Jack jerks the leg propped over Gabriel’s shoulder, leg kicking into the air in protest.

“ _Gabriel Reyes_ , I swear to god, I’ll- Gah!!” Jack’s threat is forcibly cut off with a moan as Gabriel takes the opportunity to push himself fully into Jack’s entrance, thrusting in until he’s pressed to the hilt inside of Jack’s body.

“You’ll what, cariño? I didn’t quite hear what you said,” Gabriel retorts playfully, grinning the usual shit-eating grin Jack is so familiar with. He still can’t quite understand how Gabriel’s able to pull it off when he no longer looks anything like how he used to, but all thoughts fly out the window when Gabriel begins to rock his hips once more.

The thick length of him fills Jack so wonderfully, stretching him out from the inside and finally satisfying the empty feeling that had been gnawing away at him since before his pants were even taken off. He moans in delight, head tipping back in pleasure as Gabriel bucks into him, rubbing against his walls and occasionally brushing against his prostate just enough to stimulate but not nearly enough to push him anywhere close to the breaking point.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, Jackie,” Gabriel moans above him, “I missed how good you feel…” More of that thick smoke pours out from the pores of his body with each movement, warming the air and heating Jack up from the outside. They groan in tandem, grinding and rocking against each other in a loud litany of lewd noises that, were anyone to even set foot into the warehouse, there would be no mistaking what the two of them are doing.

The pleasure-induced fog hazing Jack’s mind suddenly clears when feels something slick and wet prodding at his already-filled entrance, and he startles when the realization of what it is and what Gabriel intends to do hits him.

“G-Gabriel!” he yelps. He tenses fully, unintentionally clenching himself around the thick length already inside him and forcing a groan to escape from both himself and Gabriel.

“Just relax,” Gabriel coos, gently caressing Jack’s inner thigh in a reassuring gesture. “You can take it. I know you can.”

He waits several moments for Jack to relax beneath him, grinning when he’s finally answered with a shaky nod and a gruff, “Fine, okay… Just go easy.”

“Of course.”

Sure enough, Gabriel does indeed follow his request, choosing to continue his thrusting into Jack’s entrance by rocking in and out in an easy, steady rhythm. Slowly coaxing Jack’s body into a somewhat more relaxed state with his movements, Gabriel leans down to cover Jack’s mouth with his own. He makes a point to catch every gasp,  every moan, every whimper, each and every noise of pain and pleasure escaping from Jack’s throat and swallows them all down as the tendril finally breaches Jack’s tight entrance. He pulls away when the added appendage manages to make its way inside, and he marvels at just how gorgeous Jack looks beneath him, sweat-soaked, flushed, and panting as he teeters just on this side of utterly wrecked.  

Jack cries out beneath him, trembling as the tentacle continues to make its way inside and Gabriel pushes himself forward along with it. The both of them groan at the added pressure of Jack’s hot entrance clenching around the dual lengths inside him as Gabriel re-seats his cock as deep inside of him as possible. Moaning and keening, Jack tosses his head back as he writhes in a delicious mix of both pain and pleasure as the appendage nudges so harshly at his walls. The stretch inside of him is even more than he ever thought possible, and he grits his teeth at the dull ache that pangs in his gut, only eased whenever Gabriel happens to move or shift above and inside of him.

The added tendril winding itself around Gabriel's cock gives a sensation almost beyond comprehension. Jack cries out once more, spine arching sharply off the dirt ground when Gabriel begins to removes himself from his tight, slick heat. Wrapped around Gabriel's cock like a corkscrew, the added girth from the tendril forces his rim to flutter around Gabriel's cock. He whines as Gabriel pulls the tentacle-bound cock out until only the very tip remains inside, only to push back inside until he’s fully hilted once more. With each centimeter of Gabriel that passes through him — out of him, _into_ him — Jack's swollen rim stretches wide and clenches shut, all the while clinging so tightly and almost desperately to the imposing girth. Nearly in hysterics, Jack's mind compares the sensation to something between anal beads and a ribbed condom. The feeling is similar, but far more surreal and bizarre in the way the thick ridges cause such intense ripples of pleasure to jolt up his spine and seem to shift and slither with a mind of their own.

There's no regularity or conformity in the time and space between each coil of the tendril on Gabriel's cock, and the inconsistency is enough to drive Jack crazy.

Grinning, Gabriel adjusts his angle, and continues to ram himself deep inside. As if fully intent on driving Jack to his inevitable climax, Gabriel forms another tendril from his body. He winds it around Jack’s twitching, neglected cock, delighting in the way it makes Jack cry out and moan so beautifully beneath him. It strokes at Jack's erection in time with every thrust of Gabriel’s cock into his body, and with the rhythmic clenching if Jack’s insides growing more and more erratic, Gabriel can just feel how close Jack is to the end.

His claws dig into Jack’s legs, breaking the skin in deep gashes, and causing even more blood to spill. With a low growl, monstrous and menacing, Gabriel all but demands Jack to climax with a well-aimed thrust directly against his tender prostate. “Come on, Jackie. Come for me,” he purrs, chuckling all the while.

And just like that, Jack finds himself forcefully dragged over the edge. His back arches, and a loud, wanton moan explodes from his chest. He nearly chokes on his own tongue as he tosses his head back, losing himself in the devastating impact of his orgasm. The tendril around his throbbing cock does not relent, even as ropes of cum jet from his swollen slit. It strokes at his length in tandem with each vicious thrust of Gabriel's hips against his own until every last drop of release is milked from him. Jack scrabbles against the concrete as Gabriel resumes fucking his tendril-wrapped cock in and out of Jack's twitching hole, turning his entire body into one frayed and open nerve with each press inside of him.

It isn't until Jack is nearly sobbing from over stimulation that the delicious torment finally ends. The tendril leaves his cock and Gabriel gives one one last, earth-shattering thrust, pressing himself as deep as possible.Jack’s insides clench with over sensitivity as each pulse of Gabriel's orgasm ripples through his throbbing cock and the tentacle along with it, pressing against his inner walls and rubbing against his swollen prostate. His insides are painted with Gabriel's cum, and he moans at the liquid heat spreading inside of him and filling him up to the brim.

Several minutes pass before either of them do anything, the silence between them filled only by the sounds of their heavy breathing slowly returning to normal. The slight discomfort of being filled turns into a dull ache, and Jack groans at the way his body involuntarily clenches around Gabriel when Gabriel bends over and braces himself with a forearm on the concrete, almost blanketing Jack's body with his.

“Was it good for you too, Jack?” Gabriel purrs, leaning down to cover Jack's mouth with his. Jack braces himself, but that doesn't ease much of the the discomfort in his lungs when Gabriel pushes that infernal smoke of his down his windpipe once more. He breaks the kiss, nicking his lip on one of Gabriel's teeth as he turns his head while his body spasms to expel the tainted air.

“Ga-Gabriel,” he pants between coughs, black smoke puffing from his mouth all the while. His cheeks continue to burn, flushed red even as he presses against the blackened chest. The strength in his arms are no match for the sheer weight of Gabriel's monstrous form.

“Let's do this again sometime,” Gabriel laughs, taking Jack's face in his hands and meeting his mouth with his once more. This time, Jack finds himself melting into the kiss, moaning as Gabriel's hot tongue intertwines with his. He pants against black lips, gasping for breath as more and more of that muggy smoke enters his lungs. Slowly, he feels his vision and mind haze, body clouding over with a dull numbness the longer the kiss goes on. The kiss continues, growing lazier and lazier by the second until Gabriel pushes one last, smoky breath into Jack's lungs and he passes out, bodies still connected with one another.

It’s not until Jack wakes up god-knows-how-much-later, gasping for breath and eyes slowly blinking open, that he realizes he must have passed out. The sky has long since gone dark above him, he notices, and the clock on the digital display of his visor — how kind of Gabriel to put it back on his face, he scoffs — reads a rather irritating 19:53. _Shit_. He'd been out for that long? Slowly, Jack gets himself up off the ground, legs trembling and back dully aching the entire time, and he grimaces at the odd sensation at his ass.

Still slick and sloppy — the fucker had the decency to redress him, but not even attempt to clean him up — Jack's hole throbs from all the “loving” attention Gabriel paid it, and Jack's eyes widen when he notices the odd sensation at his aching rim. Something is keeping him open still, plugging him up and blocking any of Gabriel's cum inside of him from leaking out. He's not quite sure what it is, but whatever it is, it's warm, it's thick, and worst of all, it's _moving_ . The sensation isn't unlike how Gabriel's tendril felt when it had been penetrating him, and Jack's face all but explodes from heat and embarrassment at the recollection. He has half a mind to just strip down, yank the offending _whatever_ from his ass, and hunt Gabriel down to exact his own revenge, but his attentions are all but demanded of him by a familiar chirping in his ear.

It's a call from base, and Jack quickly picks up.

“76? Are you all right? Your comms were down for quite some time, and we hadn’t been able to contact you. We were getting worried,” Winston's voice rumbles over the earpiece. “Do you need an extrac-”

He fails to hear the rest of Winston’s words as the notification for a new message from an unknown sender — though Jack’s gut tells him that he knows exactly who it’s from regardless —  blinks on his visor’s interface and catches his attention. Opening it without a thought, Jack immediately regrets his impulsive decision, face flushing in embarrassment the moment the message loads.

“That’s fine. I’ll be at the extraction point in 20 minutes,” he growls into the communicator before hanging up and clicking the “Delete” button on the message. He takes a step forward, beginning the search for his Pulse Rifle when a voice crackles into his ear, unbidden as Jack wasn’t even connected to a radio frequency nor was he prompted about an incoming call.

“Maybe next time you should keep your little ‘fights’ to the bedroom,  _ amigo _ ,” a feminine voice, in what Jack clearly recognizes as a hispanic accent, laughs into his ear. 

“Sombra, I presume?” Jack grumbles, not in the mood for any sort of banter or pleasantries.

“The one and only!” she replies. The cheeriness and unmistakable air of smugness in her voice alone already makes Jack want to punch a wall. “Anyway, didn't take you and  _ Gabe _ to be such exhibitionists! Who knew that Soldier: 76 and Reaper had such-”

Jack stops her taunting by shutting it off his communicator along with his visor. His face burns with embarrassment. Angry and humiliated, Jack kicks at a barrel to vent his frustration, cursing at himself and Gabriel all the while. He’d have to find a restroom before he met up with the others, and perhaps lighter fluid with a few matches while he was at it.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with a pseudo-sequel: [Down the Spine ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8833834)!


End file.
